


an aching in my heart

by contemplativepancakes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Doctor!Dean, Enemies to Lovers, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death, PTSD mentions, Tattoo artist!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/contemplativepancakes/pseuds/contemplativepancakes
Summary: When Dean’s best friend dies, leaving behind her daughter, Dean knows he has what it takes to give Claire the life she deserves. The problem is, they’re not related by blood, and Claire’s long lost uncle gets called to take her in. Castiel Novak was bad news when he was in highschool with Dean, and judging by his blue hair and tattoo sleeves, nothing’s changed. Castiel ran out on his family once before, and there’s no way Dean’s going to let that happen to Claire without putting up a fight.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 58
Kudos: 351
Collections: Destiel Harlequin Challenge 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a really fun time writing this! Thank you to the mods and fellow writers in the discord, you guys were always super helpful and encouraging! Special shout out to my beta, [@raths_kitten,](https://archiveofourown.org/users/raths_kitten/pseuds/raths_kitten) for all of your great feedback and help polishing this up! Thank you also to [@xxenjoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy) (or dates-with-cas[ on tumblr) ](https://dates-with-cas.tumblr.com/)for reading it over and reassuring me when I was in the throes of writer's angst.  
> With that, here it is! Enjoy!

“Everything’s looking good, Mildred,” Dean says, straightening up from his examination for swelling in his patient’s legs. “It looks like the edema has dissipated a lot since the last time I saw you. Do you have any questions for me?”

Mildred hums thoughtfully. “I don’t think so. Actually, I do have one. Have you found someone to settle down with yet? Because you know I’m always up for a good time.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but I’m not sure I could keep up.” Dean winks and they both burst out in laughter. 

He loves the camaraderie he gets to build up with his longstanding patients, just one of the perks of being a family doctor in their small town. “But if you don’t have anything else on your mind, I’ll have to get going. I’m trying to get rid of that all doctors being late perception.”

Mildred shoots him a flirty look as she brushes past him. “Good luck, and if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Dean gives her a warm smile as he walks her back out to the waiting room, but before she leaves, she turns to him and grasps his wrist. “In all seriousness, you don’t have to be alone, you know. Open your heart, and you might be surprised at what you find.”

“Thanks, Mildred,” Dean answers with a tight smile, just this side of uncomfortable with the sincere shift their conversation has taken.

She gives him one last wistful smile before she turns to walk out the doors of the hospital. Dean’s known her for years, and the one constant has been the incessant prods about his love life, or the lack thereof. 

In a town this small, sometimes Dean feels like he can’t do anything without everyone knowing about it the next day, and the idea of stumbling through dating someone with the town’s judgmental eyes on them is enough to give him pause. He’ll stick to his hookups he drives at least an hour and a half away for, thank you very much. At least there, he has anonymity, the ability to do what he wants without everyone gossiping about it the next day.

He’s distracted from his musings by Charlie, their radiologist, bursting through the doors he just led Mildred through. “Everything okay, Red?” he asks, alarmed by her expression and the way she’s out of breath.

“Dean, it’s Anna,” she pants, and Dean’s stomach drops as white hot panic floods through him.

“What happened?” he demands, following Charlie as she weaves them through the corridors.

“A car accident, and it doesn’t look good.”

Dean tries to swallow, but his mouth is suddenly dry. Anna’s one of his best friends, and he can't even begin to imagine the reality of a worst case scenario here. “What about Claire? Is she…”

“Claire was in her car seat in the back, and somehow she didn’t even get a scrape. She’s not happy about being separated from her mom, though, poor thing.”

“Where do they have her at?” Dean asks as they come to a stop outside of the OR where he can see Anna’s shock of red hair through the door. He squeezes his eyes shut. He hates that he can’t be in there helping, hates the helplessness that washes over him and threatens to paralyze him until he can't do anything for anyone at all. 

“They took her to the nursery, I think, it was all kind of a blur,” Charlie says, and now that Dean takes a closer look at her, he can see the way the color is gone from her face, making her even paler than usual, standing out in stark relief to her bright hair. 

Dean looks closer and notices the minute tremor in her hands. “Hey, why don’t you sit down." He drags Charlie over to one of the chairs, trying not to be concerned with just how much of her weight she's letting him support. “Uh, text me if you need anything, I just gotta go check up on Claire. Anna will kill me if I don’t make sure she’s okay.”

Even as shaken as she is, Charlie manages to give him an eye roll. “Don't bring Anna into it. We both know you're just a worry wart." They share a half smile before the effort becomes too much for Charlie, and it drops from her face. "I’ll let you know when Anna comes out.”

Dean smiles gratefully. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he says, and he’s not exactly sure whose benefit it’s for.

Later, standing in the dim nursery with the coughs and soft cries of infants as the backdrop, he learns Anna never woke up from her surgery. He’s not sure if things are ever going to be okay again.

He wraps his arms more securely around Claire, as if just by holding her tight enough, he’ll be able to protect her from the fact that her whole life just got upended. “What’s going to happen to her?” Dean asks, looking up at Jody.

The town’s sheriff looks at him dubiously and shakes her head. “I don’t know. Anna didn’t have a will, so we’re looking for the closest family member right now. She’ll have to go into foster care in the meantime, I guess.” Jody frowns, and Dean seizes on that. He can’t let that happen to Claire.

“Jody, no,” he begs, “I’ll take her. I’ve helped Anna raise her, come on. Don’t do this to her. You have Alex. You know what can happen. Foster care will chew her up and spit her out.”

Jody takes in his pleading expression, and she softens. “I guess Anna probably would have wanted you to be the one to watch her,” she hedges.

“Yes, exactly! You know how much I do for them. Did for them,” Dean corrects himself, and that’s when his eyes really start to itch.

The lump in his throat makes it hard to swallow, and Dean's hit with a white hot flash of feeling that he's hard pressed to hold back. All day, he’s been trying to be strong, for Charlie, for Claire, but finally, tears start to drip down his face, and Jody falters even more. “Fine,” she relents, “But if anyone asks, one of the nurses that was friends with Anna let you leave with her. And no, you don’t know their name.”

Dean’s so relieved that he can’t help the strangled sob that escapes him. Now that Claire’s safe for now, his mind stops racing enough to actually process what happened, even if he’s still in a state of disbelief. Anna was one of his best friends. They weren’t supposed to have to think about what one would do without the other. There were supposed to be so many more years of game nights with Charlie, movie nights with just them, so many more pints of ice cream shared over each of their break ups. Things like this happen to other people, not him. His face is getting hot, and he wishes everything would just _stop_ for a minute, let him catch his breath. 

“ _And_ ,” Jody adds sternly, “You have to promise you’re not going to put up a fight when the relative gets here to get Claire. I know how you Winchesters are.”

“I can’t even think about that yet, Jody.” His lip starts to quiver against his will, and Jody sighs, opening her arms. 

“Come here,” she says, and when Dean melts into her, she rubs circles into his back. “It’s gonna be okay. You guys are going to be just fine.”

-

Dean borrows a car seat from one of the nurses, and he drives more cautiously than ever before. He doesn’t know how so many parents walk around, being responsible for the safety and wellbeing of tiny, reliant-on-them-for-everything humans and not collapse from stress. He's ready to collapse, and he's less than a day in. 

When he gets back to his apartment at just past two in the morning, Claire starts wailing and doesn’t let up, even though Charlie had fed and changed her a little more than an hour ago. Fuck, he’s so going to get evicted. He looks up at the ceiling nervously, but no one starts banging on his walls to tell him, _shut the hell up, some of us are trying to sleep!_ Dean hopes he won’t have a pink slip on his door in the morning.

He tucks Claire more securely to his chest while adding a pair of earplugs to his mental grocery list. This close, Claire’s sobs are decibel defying. “I’m going to be deaf by the time I’m forty if you keep this up," he says, but he can barely hear himself over Claire's cries. "You were never this loud for Anna.”

He strokes his thumb through Claire’s fine hair. “I miss her, too.”

Dean’s cat, Cheeto, winds against his legs, heedless of Claire’s cries. “I’m surprised you’re not hiding under the couch. You should be sad, too. What’s going to happen if you eat something you’re not supposed to now? Anna’s not around to make you puke it back up.”

Dean tries for a smile, but he doesn’t even have to look in the mirror to know it’s weak at best. But. Fake it ‘til you make it and all that. “That’s how we met, you know,” he tells Cheeto over Claire screeching, but he thinks it might be quieting down now, “You ate my easter lilies, and I was freaking out, so I called Sam. He was no help, honestly, I don’t know why I bothered. But Anna was hanging out with him, and she told me to feed you some hydrogen peroxide, get it out of your system.”

He rubs his socked foot over Cheeto’s head, and Cheeto arches up into the contact. “Can’t do stupid stuff like that anymore, bud.”

Claire’s finally quieted down, now just giving the occasional whimper. “You either, Claire. I’m an old man, I can’t take the stress. Go easy on me, okay?”

Once Claire’s eyes flutter shut, he eases her back into her crib and climbs into his own bed. Charlie had watched Claire for him earlier as he went back to Anna’s apartment to get all the things for Claire she would need. If Dean had broken down there again, surrounded by all of Anna’s things and the memories he’d have to make sure he clung to even more desperately now, that’s no one’s business but his. 

He still remembers the look on Anna’s face as she told him she was pregnant and that she was going to keep the baby. “I’m thirty one, Dean. I didn’t mean for this to happen, but…” Anna had shrugged helplessly. “I’m ready. If I don’t do this now, when will I? What exactly am I supposed to be waiting for?"

Dean had pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who’s the dad?”

“Honestly, I don’t know, and it’s probably better that way. Some guy I picked up at a bar isn’t exactly looking for fatherhood, you know? Besides, you’ll help me, right?” Anna had flashed him her most winning smile, the one that had preceded almost all bad ideas they had carried out together. 

Somehow, though, Dean hadn’t thought it was the worst idea in the world. Sort of a _if we’re not married by the time we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other,_ but with babies instead. “Fine. But I’m not changing any diapers.”

His threat had never held any weight when Anna was alive, and it holds even less now that there's no one else around to do it. He imagines that Anna is somewhere laughing at him right now, and he holds onto that thought as he drifts off.

-

When he wakes up, it’s to the sound of Claire sobbing again. He jerks out of bed and pulls Claire out of her crib, squinting at the bright red light of his alarm clock telling him it’s simultaneously too early and too late for any self respecting person to be up. “Your mom always said you were the best baby, but you’re really pulling out all the stops for me, huh?” he sighs as he checks her diaper and finds it dry.

Cheeto stares at him reproachfully from under the dresser as he fails to stop Claire’s cries. “I’m trying my best here,” Dean defends before the absurdity of arguing with his cat hits him. 

He huffs as he plods to the kitchen to mix up some of the formula he bought for her, heating it up and testing it on his wrist. “Anna will haunt my ass if I burn your tongue,” he tells Claire, but she’s not appeased and keeps crying.

He pours the formula into a bottle one handed, thinking that he really needs to get one of those carriers he can strap to his chest. He screws the nipple on and holds it up to Claire’s mouth. She latches on, and Dean chuckles at her eagerness. “Guess we found the problem, huh?”

His relief is short lived, though, because after she refuses to drink anymore, she immediately hiccups, and sniffles start escaping her again. Dean quickly burps her, but the tears come anyway. “What’s wrong, Claire?” he coos, wondering if he should be concerned yet. He’d figured there would be some separation anxiety, but Claire’s been crying practically every moment she’s spent awake with him.

A thought strikes him, something he’d seen while he was at Anna’s. “You’re teething, aren’t you?”

He works his finger into Claire’s mouth, easing it open to see her gums. Sure enough, two teeth have erupted, and he can see the outline of at least one more. He retrieves what he realizes now are teething toys and puts them in the freezer. Claire isn’t impressed with his too-late realization, though, and she continues to sob. “Hey, hey,” Dean soothes as he pulls out one of his bottles of whiskey. He wets his fingers and rubs it over her gums. “Don’t tell on me, but that should numb ‘em a little bit for you while we wait, princess.”

_Oh, god. I’m not going to be one of those dads, am I?_ he thinks in horror. _Daddy’s little princess_ , his mind mocks back, and Dean resigns himself to his fate. He was already wrapped around Claire’s finger before he actually became her dad; he doesn’t stand a chance now.

On the heels of that thought, a terrible realization strikes him. He’s not going to be a dad because some long lost relative of Anna’s is going to take Claire. It’s bullshit, honestly. Where were they when Anna was pregnant? When she was having weird cravings, when she was doubting having Claire at all? Who pored over endless baby name books with Anna, who was there when Claire was born? Because Dean sure as hell didn't see any of Anna's so called "family" there.

“Never gonna give you up, baby girl,” he says, and then laughs at himself and sings her the whole song, now that her wailing has finally eased off. He already knows he’s going to hate whoever tries to take Claire away from him.

-

The days pass in a blur, and at some point, he thinks to call his work to explain the situation, but Pamela waves him off. “We’ve got you covered. All those little old ladies might miss their eye candy, but you just take your time, okay?”

“Thanks, Pam,” he says before he hangs up, trying to not get choked up. He hates how stupid emotional he’s been ever since Anna died. He feels volatile, like his tear ducts are just waiting for a chance to betray him. He cried at a stupid Honda commercial, for fuck's sake. 

He turns to Claire. “What’s going to happen when I have to leave you at daycare? I would say you’ll probably see the waterworks, but I don’t know if I’d be able to live that one down. Gotta keep up appearances, and that’s already going to be a lot harder when I’m carting you around. You’re not good for my macho image,” he scolds her.

She just gurgles at him happily, her teething ring between her gums, and Dean can’t help but smile at her. “You’re too cute for your own good, you know that?”

Somewhere in between feeding Claire, and changing her diaper, and feeding her again (seriously, does she do _anything_ else?), it occurs to him that no one’s going to plan Anna’s funeral if he doesn’t. That’s something he desperately doesn’t want to do, but he’d be a pretty shit friend if he didn’t. He realizes Anna had other friends besides him, though, so he makes a few calls and soon he has Sam and Charlie convinced to do the planning. In all reality, Claire has mostly been sleeping through the night, but if he over exaggerated his exhaustion from new parenthood, well, what Sam and Charlie don’t know won’t kill them.

-

He’s at the funeral home at Anna’s calling hours, proudly sporting his new papoose, when he hears his name over the general murmur of the crowd. He glances around, trying to find who said his name, and he sees Charlie pointing in his direction. He looks at who she’s talking to, and he’s struck with horror.

Even with the blue hair, even more muscular thighs than Dean had remembered, and the addition of the tattoos Dean can see creeping out from under his collar, Castiel Novak is unmistakable. Fuck.

Dean suddenly connects the dots he failed to see before; that Cas was Anna’s stepbrother, and he must be the person they called to take custody of Claire. Dean wraps a protective arm around her back, eyes darting around the room to try to find an avenue of escape, but before he finds a way to avoid the impending situation, Charlie guides Cas over to him. Cas looks just as uncomfortable to be seeing him as Dean is, and Dean has a rush of vindictive spite. He wonders how much he can make Cas squirm.

“Look who I found!” Charlie chirps, propelling Cas towards Dean.

“Hey.” Dean goes to cross his arms over his chest but has to abort because Claire is in the way. He’s still getting used to the whole baby carrier thing.

“Hello. Um, nice to see you again,” Cas says awkwardly, in that stupidly formal way of his that hasn’t changed a bit.

Dean’s surprised he still talks like that in light of his new look. Dean's eyes catch on his painted fingernails. “Nice, huh? I don’t know if that’s the word I’d use.”

“Dean!” Charlie chastises, looking shocked, and Dean remembers he never told her about what happened between them.

Cas shifts uncomfortably, tugging at his shirt nervously. “Look, can we go somewhere else to talk? You know why I’m here,” he says, gesturing to Claire.

“Gonna skip out on your sister again? Can’t even stick around at her calling hours?”

Cas rubs the back of his neck, shifting his shirt just enough that a new tattoo, a bluebird, is revealed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is really the place for this…”

“And how would you know? You didn’t help plan it; hell, you haven’t even ever been around to meet your niece.”

“I—I didn’t know Anna was pregnant.” Cas looks down at his shoes.

“And so why exactly do you think that you can just waltz into Claire’s life right now?”

“Um, this obviously wasn’t the right way to go about this. I’ll go. Here,” Cas scribbles something down on a scrap of paper he pulls out of his pocket. “Call me when it’s more convenient for you to meet with me.”

He walks away in a hurry, and Dean gapes after him. He turns to Charlie, expecting her to share in his incredulity at the nerve of the guy, but she just looks at him in anger. “I cannot believe you, Dean Winchester! I never thought you were a jerk, but that was just plain mean.” She jabs a finger at his chest. 

“Charlie, he totally had that coming!” Dean protests.

Charlie shakes her head. “I can’t even deal with you right now. Why in the world did he have that coming?”

“Because he left _me_! I can’t let him do that to Claire!”

“He left you? What do you mean?” Charlie’s brow furrows, and Dean looks around and realizes how many people are staring at them.

“I can feel Claire getting kind of fussy, so I better go, but I’ll text you, okay?”

“Dean, she’s _asleep_.”

“I can feel it,” Dean insists as he leaves, ignoring the look Charlie shoots him.

He really doesn’t need to be airing out his dirty laundry in front of the whole town; they’re already desperate for any gossip they can get on him, because he’s a doctor and he’s single. The last thing he needs is them getting a hold of anything too juicy.

Once he’s outside the funeral home, he stops and thuds his head back against the concrete wall. The door swings open again, and he turns his head to see Charlie trailing him. “Explain,” she demands.

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Too bad. I didn’t want to hear you start a fight with Anna’s brother at her funeral, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“I didn’t start a fight,” he protests weakly.

“Yeah, well, you would have if Cas wouldn’t have been so chill about it. What’s the deal, anyway? I thought you used to like him in high school.”

Dean groans. He _did_ use to like Cas in high school, and that’s exactly where this whole problem started.

“Whatever. I just did something stupid, and now it’s coming back to bite me in the ass. No surprise there.”

“Well, if you’re the one who did something stupid, why are you yelling at Cas about it?”

“Because he did something stupid, too! Whose side are you on, Charlie?”

Charlie looks affronted. “I’m on your side, of course, and what that looks like right now is helping you realize you should really cut the dead girl’s brother some slack.”

Dean tugs his hand through his hair in agitation, jostling Claire and wincing when she stirs. “He wasn’t there, okay? He wasn’t there for any of _this_ ,” he says, flapping his hand at Claire, “So why does he get her now? Charlie, I just lost one of my best friends; I can’t lose Claire, too.”

Charlie finally softens. “I get it, okay? I do. Anna was my friend, too. I think the least you can do is hear her brother out.”

-

Dean wanders aimlessly around his apartment for a few days, grumbling to himself, Claire, and finally Cheeto, about Cas. The nerve of him, to think that after he ran out before, he can just come waltzing back in here to whisk Claire off to wherever the fuck he lives now, and Dean’s just going to roll over and let him. Well, fuck him and his stupid blue hair and his stupid tattoos and his stupid thighs. Fat chance that’s going to happen on Dean’s watch.

To make sure that doesn’t happen, he figures he better go talk to Cas before he gets Jody involved, or worse, CPS. He punches the number Cas gave him at the funeral into his phone and stares at the screen. He debates calling him, but he should probably be on his best behavior after what he said at the funeral, so he just sends a text instead. Who knows what would come out of his mouth if he has to hear Cas’s annoyingly deep voice again?

>>Hey. It’s Dean. Can we talk?

He waits, staring expectantly at the blue screen, but Cas doesn’t answer right away. Well, whatever. Dean’s not a middle school girl with a crush. People have lives; they’re not just sitting around on their phones all day waiting for Dean to text them. 

Dean glances at the clock and goes to make some formula for Claire, snagging a jar of baby food from the cupboard, too. Anna had been starting to slowly introduce Claire to some solid foods before… _before_ , and Dean’s been taking a lot of pleasure in all of her faces to the various types of food. She doesn’t like peas, but there’s one with raspberries that she always makes grabby hands at whenever she gets the first spoonful.

Dean’s in the process of screwing the nipple onto the bottle when his phone buzzes. He sets the bottle down and frowns at Cas’s answer.

<< Of course. When and where?

It’s way too polite, and it seems like a ploy to get Dean to let down his guard so Cas will be able to snatch Claire away.

>> idk man. you pick, I’ll be there

He and Cas set up the meeting, and Dean prepares himself for battle.

-

Dean opens the door of the bakery with a huge pit in his gut. He feels like a divorced parent. Which is dumb, because even if him and Cas were together a lifetime ago, there were no misunderstandings about what it was. Well, maybe _Dean_ had had a slight misunderstanding about the direction they were going to go, but Cas had nipped that in the bud.

Angel Cakes is where Cas had suggested they meet, so here Dean is, dutifully present three minutes before their meeting time. He looks around the bakery to see tables set up near the back, so Dean takes a seat there and tries not to bounce his leg too obnoxiously. He hears raised voices from behind the counter, in the kitchen part of the bakery, and Dean tries to eavesdrop surreptitiously. “…every time a drawer shuts too loudly! This is crazy! You don’t have the set up for this, I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Dean hears a voice say.

A different deep voice, that almost sounds like Cas’s, replies, “I have no idea why she wouldn’t have told me, but I have to do this,” and then the voice’s owner rounds the corner, and, oh, it is Cas. He looks oddly out of place here, his tattoos and piercings in sharp contrast to the pastel theme of the rest of the shop. Dean supposes he’s no better with his leather jacket.

Dean gives him a weak wave, taking a deep breath and drawing on every last reserve of pleasantness his body has in him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas greets, but not without throwing one last glare over his shoulder at the short man, who, judging by his apron, works here.

“Hey. Uh.”

“Where’s Claire?”

“Oh, I left her with my brother. She gets fussy in crowds, and I didn’t want that to disrupt our conversation, you know?”

Cas looks disappointed as he sits down in the seat facing the door. “Right. That’s smart.”

“So, um, who’s your friend?” Dean asks, jerking his head towards the counter.

“That’s Gabriel. I’m staying with him while I’m here. We were friends in high school.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. He had thought Cas was more of a loner; he’s surprised he’s kept in contact with anyone from high school, if he didn’t even talk to Dean after. “That’s good,” he nods, wondering if this conversation could be any more painful.

They both start to talk at the same time, and Dean gestures for Cas to speak. “Thank you for watching Claire until I got here. Sheriff Mills said you volunteered. That was very kind of you,” Cas says cautiously.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been watching Claire her whole life.” Dean shrugs, trying not to sound too defensive.

“Look, Dean…”

“What?” Dean snaps, making Cas sigh.

“Anna’s gone, and Claire is all I have left of her. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Yeah? You weren’t even here for Anna, and apparently you didn’t even know about Claire, so where do you get off butting in now? Me and her are doing just fine.”

“I’m sure you are, but she’s my niece. My blood. I have a responsibility to her, to Anna!”

“Well, you were sure never worried about that responsibility before now.”

A muscle tics in Cas’s jaw. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“You’re right! So why in the hell would I let you take Claire?” Dean’s voice is starting to raise now, and he can see other bakery patrons turning to stare, and his face is starting to heat up, but he can’t stop, he’s just so _upset_ , he can’t lose Claire, he can’t—

“I’ll let you see her,” Cas says, interrupting Dean’s spiral of thoughts.

Dean scoffs. “And how exactly is that going to work? I don’t do planes; they’re flying metal death traps. I’m not letting you fuck back off to wherever you came from.”

Cas crosses his arms and scowls right back at Dean. “I have a _job_. I can’t just uproot my whole life.”

“But you can do it to Claire?”

Cas gives him an incredulous look. “I don’t think an infant has much of a life to disrupt.”

Dean scrambles, clutching at straws, anything that’s not going to make Claire disappear from his life. “I’ll take this to court,” Dean blurts, and Cas freezes.

“A custody battle? For a child you’re not even related to?”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been in Claire’s life from the very beginning. And I’m a doctor. I like my chances,” Dean says, even though he has no idea how custody works, if that would even hold any water.

“Oh, you’re a _doctor_. That’s right. I’m sorry we didn’t all go to school for ten years just to stick a finger up someone’s ass,” Cas sneers.

“I’ll have you know prostate exams are a critical part of maintaining health as you age,” Dean snaps back, and then he deflates. They’re not getting anywhere. “Look. Let’s just. Be adults about this. Let’s start over. I’m sorry, okay?” Dean clears his throat and sticks out his hand. “Dean Winchester.”

Cas stares at his outstretched hand, and for a second, Dean’s stomach plummets, thinking Cas isn’t going to take the olive branch he’s extended. “Castiel Novak,” he finally says, reaching out to shake Dean’s hand.

“Now let’s figure something out, okay?”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean hesitates as he brings his hand up to knock on Cas’s door. Well, Gabriel’s, he guesses. Cas had mentioned he was crashing with him. After a lot of haggling, they had finally decided Cas would look for a job and stay here, at least for now, since this was where Claire had the most support. Cas would look after Claire during the day, and Dean would have her at night.

Claire giggles, and Dean looks down at her with a smile. “What’s so funny, squirt?”

The door opens, and Dean lowers his hand awkwardly. “Just waiting around for us, huh?”

“I must admit, I’m nervous,” Cas says, fiddling with one of his piercings, a hoop. Dean resists the urge to make a snide comment. 

“Yeah, well, today’s the dry run. I won’t be at work, so if you need anything, feel free to call me. Tomorrow, still definitely call me if there’s any issues, but I can’t promise I’ll be able to pick up.”

“Must be busy work doing all those prostate exams, single handedly making sure the men of this fine town are healthy as horses.”

Dean gives a tight grin as he delicately places Claire in Cas’s arms. “Something like that, yeah.”

The grin quickly slips off his face as he realizes that’s his cue to leave, but it’s harder than he had thought it was going to be. Cas seems to read the look on his face because he hesitates, too. “Do you want to stay? Just for a bit? Gabriel is making omelets.”

Dean rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Just a few days ago he had had a shouting match with Cas, and now the guy’s inviting him in for breakfast? “What the hell,” Dean says, figuring he would probably just be moping over Claire’s absence all morning, anyway.

“Good, I wasn’t sure if that was weird or not. I’ve been a mess since we talked, running around to get everything I thought Claire would need.”

Dean hefts the duffel bag he has in his right hand. “If you forgot anything, it’s probably in here.”

Cas blinks in relief. “Thank you. I know this… isn’t the situation either of us wanted, but it’s going to be infinitely easier and better for Claire if we can at least get along.”

“That’s an understatement,” Dean snorts, and a flicker of hurt crosses Cas’s face. “Aw, I mean, look, I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Of course.” Cas flashes him a smile that comes nowhere close to his eyes as he moves out of the doorway so Dean can enter.

Dean rethinks his acceptance of the invitation for a second before he figures he should probably just smooth things over now, so it doesn’t fester and bubble over later, an issue that’s seemed to haunt Dean throughout his life.

Dean walks into the apartment, taking it in. There are posters for bands he’s never heard of plastered all over the walls, and candy wrappers litter the floor.

“Sorry,” Cas says, stooping down to pick up some of the trash, “I’ve been telling Gabriel he needs to start picking up after himself better. He was surprisingly helpful when we baby proofed yesterday, though.”

Dean resolutely does not stare at Cas’s ass while he’s bent over and instead follows his nose to the kitchen, where Gabriel is flipping an omelet. “Hey,” Gabriel says, looking up distractedly.

“Hi, I’m Dean.”

“Oh, I know. You’ve got Cassie all twisted up.”

Cas blushes and looks down, adjusting his grip on Claire. “Fuck off, Gabe.”

“Twisted up, huh?” Dean asks, unable to resist an opportunity to tease someone, even if that someone is Cas. 

“Because of Claire! You can fuck right off, too.”

Dean raises his hands, trying not to smile. 

Their meal passes with careful conversation, and Dean starts to get to know Cas again. Dean can feel each of their walls slowly lowering, aided by Gabriel’s snarky comments, even if Dean hates to admit it.

Until, of course, he pushes too far. 

“So, are you single, Dean?” Gabriel asks, shooting him a salacious look.

“Um. Yes.”

Gabriel gives Cas a meaningful look, but Cas just rolls his eyes.

“I’ll just say what we’re all thinking, then. You sure this isn’t actually your kid?”

“Gabriel!” Cas exclaims, a grimace passing over his face, like Dean and Anna together is the worst possible thing he can think of. Claire shifts in her high chair at the outburst. 

Dean can feel the walls that were slowly being deconstructed slam back up as Cas stares at both of them in horror. “Yeah, I’m sure. It wasn’t like that. Anna was with someone else when I met her at the vet’s clinic, and by the time they broke up, we just didn’t think of each other like that.” Dean feels a pang in his chest at the topic of Anna. The wound’s slowly been getting less raw, but it’s hard when Claire reminds him of Anna every time he looks at her.

Gabriel holds up his hands. “If the little terror’s going to be snotting all over my apartment, I think I deserve all the facts, don’t you?”

Dean frowns. “Don’t call her a terror. She’s been basically asleep since we got here!”

Cas looks Gabriel up and down. “I suppose since she’s the closest here to your size, you thought it would be appropriate to pick on her.”

Gabriel clutches his chest. “That hurts.”

-

As the months pass, Dean and Cas fall into a pattern. They’re getting along, more or less, and Dean finds himself warming back up to Cas against his will. Dean drops Claire off in the morning, she spends the day with Cas, and then Dean picks her back up in the afternoon so Cas can go to work. Cas had found a piercing shop that was hiring, and although it wasn’t the kind of art he wanted to do, it was close enough that it would do for now. Dean doesn’t let himself think about what happens after the _for now_ runs its course.

Dean gives a perfunctory knock on Gabriel’s door before letting himself in. “Cas?” he calls.

There’s an answering grunt, so Dean makes his way to the living room. Cas is sitting on the couch with Claire on his lap, and they both look exhausted.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asks.

Cas shrugs. “She was fussy all day, wouldn’t let me sleep or do anything, really. Every time I put her down, she started crying.”

Dean frowns. Cas works late, and he normally sleeps for a few hours after Dean drops Claire off because of how early Dean has to be at the hospital. “Where’s Gabe?”

“He’s on a ‘romantic getaway’. With his ex-girlfriend.” Cas says with violent air quotes, rolling his eyes.

“Is she still his ex?” Dean asks incredulously.

Cas hesitates before shrugging. “I don’t really understand their relationship.”

“Well, whatever.” He looks at Cas again. “Have you even eaten anything today?”

“Um. Some yogurt?”

Dean shakes his head. “Come on, I’ll make you something. What do you want?”

“I’m not picky.”

Dean makes his way to the kitchen, Cas trailing behind him with Claire leaning on his shoulder. “Time to talk about self soothing again?” Dean asks.

Cas hums noncommittally. 

Dean doesn’t have to turn around to imagine the displeased look on Cas’s face. “She has to learn sometime! It’s in all the books. It messes them up if you let them be too reliant on you.”

Dean opens the refrigerator and scans the contents, pulling out some hamburger meat before turning to look at Cas. He’s scowling, with the hand not supporting Claire on his hip. “Don’t you want to teach her that she can come to us with anything?”

“She’ll know that, but she’ll have the tools to try to fix things herself before she has to run to us with every little thing.”

Cas sighs. “Dean, I’ve had a long day, and the last thing I want to do is argue with you right now. We can have this conversation some other time.”

“Fine. Don’t you want to be able to ever sleep when you have her, though?”

“I’d rather make sure she’s okay. If she starts crying tonight, you better not just leave her there.”

“Fine,” Dean repeats. “We’ll wait until she’s a little bit older, then.”

“Hmm,” Cas says as he takes a seat at the bar. 

Dean shakes his head, not looking forward to the inevitable fight. “Why don’t you try putting her in the crib now? She’s looking pretty sleepy.”

Cas looks down at Claire and the way her eyes have started to droop. He nods and disappears down the hallway, leaving Dean to focus on the hamburger, forming patties. He spots the Brioche buns Gabe must have brought home from the bakery with him and grins. The hamburgers are almost done cooking when Cas reemerges. “She’s sleeping.”

Dean looks at his watch. That’ll fuck up her sleep schedule a bit, but hopefully she’ll be able to fall right back asleep once Dean gets her home.

“Do you want to stay the night? She’s already sleeping; I wouldn’t want to wake her up.”

Dean swallows. “Um. Sure. That’d be nice.”

Cas gives him a tiny smile. “Good. It gets lonely here by myself.”

Dean desperately tries to not read too much into that statement, he just turns back to his patties and flips them again, turning down the heat now that he has the outside seared.

He hears Cas shuffling out of the room and banging doors open, before he comes back with an armful of blankets and a pillow that he dumps on the couch. “Thanks, Cas.”

-

Dean wakes up to a loud _thud_ , followed by Claire’s instantaneous sobs. Dean stumbles off the couch, the blankets getting tangled between his legs and almost tripping him as he hurries to Claire. Dean bursts into Cas’s bedroom to find Cas on the ground surrounded by his blankets, and Claire wailing in her crib.

Dean picks Claire up and rubs what he hopes are soothing circles on her back. “Cas, are you okay?” he asks.

Beads of sweat stand out on Cas’s forehead, and Dean frowns. “Cas,” he says again.

Cas shakes himself and looks up at Dean. “Bad dream.” Cas slowly gets up off the ground and reaches out his hands for Claire. Dean passes her over, suddenly very aware that they’re both only wearing boxers.

Cas swallows hard before giving Dean a half-hearted teasing grin. “I thought you were going to let her self soothe?”

“Well, maybe I would have, but I had to make sure you weren’t having a ‘I’ve fallen and I can’t get up’ moment in here.”

Cas scowls. “I’m fine.”

Claire starts to settle down, having the occasional hiccup between her sniffles. “You wanna talk about it?” Dean asks.

Cas shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, man, whatever. You going to go back to bed or do you want to come watch a movie with me?”

Cas turns to look at him. “You have to be at work in three hours.”

“I’m not going to be able to fall back asleep, anyway.”

“I’d like that, then.”

Cas glances back down at Claire, and seeing that she’s yawning, carefully puts her back in the crib. They both hold their breath, waiting to see if she’ll start crying again, but she stays silent and just reaches for her blanket. They share a relieved smile.

Cas follows Dean back out to the couch. Dean flips on the tv and settles on one end. “What are we going to educate you in today?” Dean asks.

“Indiana Jones? I still haven’t seen the last one.”

“Good choice.”

They sit in mainly silence throughout the movie, Dean too worried about not paying too much attention to Cas while also not ignoring him completely to ogle Harrison Ford’s ass as much as he usually does.

By the time the movie ends, Dean’s completely exhausted. Dean’s sure he could have fallen back asleep after Claire woke them up, but Dean had seen the minute way Cas had trembled, and he knew Cas would have just laid there and overthought everything.

He turns to look at Cas and ask him what he thought, and Cas is a lot closer to him than he remembers. Somehow, they migrated together during the movie and met in the middle of the couch instead of where they had started out at. The words get lost in Dean’s throat, and Dean can’t help the way his eyes flicker to Cas’s lips.

Cas leans in. “Dean, thank you for your help tonight.”

“Uh, sure. No problem, buddy.”

Cas scoots minutely closer, and Dean jerks back, scrambling off the couch. “I’ve got to get to work.”

Cas leans back onto the couch cushions, and Dean tells himself he’s imagining the dejected look that flits across Cas’s face. “Do you want breakfast?” he asks.

A part of Dean wants nothing more than to make a speedy retreat, but another part is also starving, both for food and time with Cas, as much as he wants to deny it. He points a finger at Cas. “I’m cooking.”

Cas laughs. “What, you didn’t want cereal?”

-

A month passes in this same vein. “Charlie, you gotta see how good he is with her. For the whole first month, I was convinced he was going to drop Claire on her head, but he’s actually a really good dad.”

“Hmm. And Dean ‘Daddy Issues’ Winchester isn’t looking to tap that?”

Dean hesitates, thinking of their almost kiss. In fact, it’s a scene that’s happened multiple times now, not that Dean is keeping track. “That’d be weird. And just cause problems.”

Charlie screeches from the other end of the phone, making Dean wince and hold the speaker away from his ear. “I was kidding! But you—oh, man. You’re in it deep, Winchester.”

“Fucking tell me about it,” Dean groans, “how do I tell my daughter’s other dad that I have the hots for him? Have you seen him? That ass? And all his tattoos? How could I not be into that? Even if he is a raging asshole at times.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know, you’re a solid six. You don’t get it.”

“Hey, I can still appreciate the goods, and I don’t blame you one bit. Although, you were just telling me you hated his guts like three months ago.”

Dean grimaces. He hates being wrong. “I already said he was a raging asshole; that’s not exactly a glowing recommendation. He’s just an extremely hot raging asshole.”

“Uh huh. I’m sure,” Charlie says, unimpressed. Her Winchester lie detector is infuriatingly accurate.

Dean huffs. “Fine. He’s nice sometimes. And he’s really nice to Claire. Fuck, what happens to Claire if we break up?”

“Well, it seems like you guys already have the co-parenting thing pretty ironed out.”

“What i—”

“Dean,” Charlie interrupts. “Stop thinking of what ifs and go for what makes you happy.”

“What’ll make me happy is terrifying, though,” Dean whines.

“I know. May the odds be ever in your favor,” Charlie says, and then Dean is left with a dial tone. 

Dean stares down at his phone, biting his lip.

>> _Hey Cas. Wanna hang out sometime? I mean, without claire_

It’s possibly the most juvenile text he’s ever sent, but his hands are shaking as he hits send anyway. Dean puts his phone face down on his nightstand so he won’t look at it as he goes about getting Claire her supper. By the time she’s fed and changed and hopefully asleep for a few hours, his phone has a reply.

<< _Hello, Dean. I suppose I’d be amenable (;_

Dean really hopes Cas isn’t fucking with him. Or, even worse, it’s Gabriel on Cas’s phone messing with them both. Dean guesses there’s only one way to find out. 

-

Dean paces around his apartment. Cheeto glares at him from the couch since Dean disturbed his favorite spot to stretch out on the floor. Dean pauses to look in the mirror again, and his fingers itch to add just a little more gel to lock his hair into place. Dean knows there’s a fine line between coiffed and helmet head, though, so he restrains himself. He unbuttons his shirt instead. A button down is way too formal. They’re just hanging out. Never was the word date thrown around. Never mind the fact that they’re getting food together, Gabe is babysitting Claire, and Dean has spent the past hour dithering in the mirror.

He picks the purple Henley; Charlie says it makes his eyes pop. Charlie, of course, had offered to come over and help him pick out his clothes, but Dean knew she would cause more anxiety than she would soothe.

Dean looks at his watch again. He still has ten minutes before he can leave if he doesn’t want to be freakishly early. He thuds his head against the wall. He liked it better when he couldn’t stand Cas. Now, they just dance around each other, and Dean has to resist the urge to shut Cas up with a kiss when they start arguing about Claire. It’s really fucking inconvenient.

Dean picks at his shirt and resists the urge to change, looking into the mirror and frowning. He runs his fingers through his hair, trying to get rid of the crunch where it’s starting to stiffen. He finally turns away from the mirror, deeming himself as good as it’s going to get, and he goes out to Baby to go pick Cas up.

Dean had agonized about what they were actually going to do on their date ever since Cas agreed to it, and he finally settled on ice cream in the park. Dinner and a movie seemed too cliché, and Dean had suggested a fireworks show, but Cas had shot that down. 

Dean wanted to be able to actually talk to Cas, anyway, so a walk in the park seemed like a good idea. It can be as short or as long as they want, and if it gets chilly, well, that gives him an excuse to cozy up to Cas. Not that Dean took things like that into consideration, of course.

Dean pops in Led Zeppelin IV, and it picks up where he had left off the last time he had played the tape. Dean sings along.

_Took my chances on a big jet plane_

_Never let them tell you that they're all the same_

_The sea was red and the sky was grey_

_Wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today_

The opening riff of the next song is just coming through his speakers when he pulls up to Gabriel’s apartment. Dean takes a moment to drum his fingers on the steering wheel before he gets out of the car and walks to the door. He raises his hand to knock, but before he can, the door swings open.

Cas is on the other side, and Dean is speechless for a good ten seconds. He shamelessly ogles Cas, looking at his dress shoes, up to the way his slacks hug his thighs and showcase his very nice ass, landing on the tattoos curling out from under Cas’s rolled up shirt sleeves. He takes an extra second to admire Cas’s muscled forearms, before having his breath knocked out of him again when he meets Cas’s eyes. “You… look nice,” he says in a strangled voice.

“So do you,” Cas replies, stepping out of the threshold and swinging the door shut behind him. “Let’s go before Gabriel decides to terrorize you, too.”

Cas grabs Dean by the hand and drags him to Baby, and Dean lets it happen, appreciating the calluses on Cas’s fingers that make an interesting contrast to the softness of his palm. He guesses Cas wasn’t kidding when he agreed to this date, after all.

Cas lets go of his hand once they reach the Impala, and Dean slides into the driver’s seat. He looks over at Cas in the passenger seat and thinks he could get used to that view.

“Ready for some ice cream?”

Cas scoffs. “Don’t ask stupid questions.”

A retort is on the tip of Dean’s tongue, but he decides he probably shouldn’t actively antagonize Cas tonight, so he reaches over the bench seat and pats Cas’s hand. “How was Claire today?” he asks instead. It’s a topic they can both talk about at length, and they spend the rest of their ride talking about Claire, agreeing about how she is the most adorable baby either of them has seen and certainly the smartest. Dean puffs up his chest in pride before deflating a bit. “I hope we’re not ruining that by leaving her with Gabriel,” Dean says as he puts the car in park.

“I doubt he’s going to let her stick a fork in a socket.”

“Way to set the bar high, Cas.”

Cas frowns at him. “She’ll be fine. Gabriel is an adequate caretaker. He helps me with her all the time.”

Worries flash through Dean’s mind; all the things that could go wrong with neither of them there to stop it. “Adequate? I don’t know if we should have gone out after all…”

Cas grabs Dean’s hand and tugs him across the bench seat until they’re chest to chest. Dean glances down at Cas’s lips—they’re right there, and they look so kissable, and then Cas’s mouth is on his and Dean kisses him back hungrily. The kiss morphs into something that is decidedly not as chaste as it started out. Dean threads his fingers through Cas’s hair, while Cas returns the favor by tugging on the shirt Dean had so carefully picked out. “I really fucking love this color on you,” Cas says, and Dean can’t help but feel vindicated with all the time he spent picking out his shirt.

Regretfully, Dean pulls back. “If we keep going like this, we’re not even going to make it out of the car.”

“I’m not sure I see the problem. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” Cas replies with an unabashed grin.

Dean raises his eyebrows. “How long _you’ve_ been waiting? I’m the one who asked you!”

“Because you always got all spooked whenever I tried to make a move!”

Dean blushes. “Did not. Whatever, let’s go before we get arrested for public indecency in the parking lot of an ice cream parlor.”

They get out of the car, Dean slamming the car door behind him and making Cas jump. “Sorry,” Dean rushes to say, but Cas brushes him off. Dean slips his hand into Cas’s as they approach the order window. The lady at the window coos at them, and Dean nearly scowls at her, but Cas squeezes his hand in warning, so Dean keeps a grin pasted onto his face. “A large waffle cone with moose tracks, please.”

Cas orders orange pineapple ice cream and then has the gall to turn to Dean like there’s nothing weird about getting a fruit ice cream when there’s all sorts of options with chocolate staring back at them. Dean voices this to Cas, but he just gets a blank stare. “This is my favorite.”

“Of course it is,” Dean grumbles, but the effect is ruined by his fond grin.

Cas weaves their fingers back together and leads them to the park. Dean tries desperately not to read too much into Cas’s ice cream licking style, but he swears Cas is licking it provocatively just to rile Dean up. Dean must stare too much, because Cas asks, “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, no, it’s just—” Dean starts, before Cas bursts out laughing. Dean shoves him away. “You little shit!”

Cas smiles. “You love it, though.”

They come to a halt, Dean’s heart thudding wildly, and Cas backtracks. “Not that I meant anything by that,” he laughs nervously. “That’d be stupid. Force of habit, sorry.”

Dean’s mouth is dry, but he manages to give a good natured smile. “You know what they say about hate and love. Maybe all that time you were convinced you hated me, you were just harboring a massive crush instead.”

“Don’t project your issues onto me, Winchester,” Cas says before dropping Dean’s hand and strolling away.

Dean stands there for a moment in shock. “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” he cries before racing after Cas.

When he catches up to Cas, Cas holds out his hand silently. Dean takes it. “You’ve already slept with me, so obviously it’s not one sided,” Dean grumbles.

They stop once more, in the middle of the path, and Cas tilts his head up just enough to catch Dean’s lips in another kiss. “Hmm. Well, I suppose you’re right about that.”

It’s barely half an hour later before they’re at Dean’s apartment. Cas crowds up against Dean in the elevator, which Dean is sure is the slowest elevator in the world, and Dean tries his best to think of every unsexy thing he can imagine. He thinks back to the time he walked in on Sam masturbating, the time Dean rubbed ointment all over the shingles on Bobby's back, and the time he found a tupperware container in the back of the fridge whose contents were at least six months old.

The thoughts do little in the face of Cas’s six feet of lean muscle pressed against him, and Dean leans his head back against the elevator wall, defenseless. “I really don’t need my neighbors to see my boner,” Dean hisses, but Cas doesn’t stop mouthing against his neck. Dean closes his eyes, before snapping them back open and shoving Cas away. “I’m serious. I’m so not into voyeurism.”

Cas huffs and walks to the other side of the elevator and crosses his arms, with Dean pleased to note Cas isn’t unaffected, either. Dean resists the urge to follow him to cup the bulge in Cas’s slacks, since that would be wildly hypocritical of him. He bites his lip and keeps his hands to himself until the elevator finally dings.

They stumble down the hall to Dean’s apartment, and they ignore the wolf whistle that comes from somewhere down the dank hallway. “I would have thought the town’s Dr. Sexy would be able to afford better than this,” Cas comments when the door opens.

Dean frowns at his small apartment and curses his past self for leaving dishes in the sink. “Are you just with me for my money, or what? Because sorry to say, student loans are a bitch.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the deciding factor,” Cas says, slipping his fingers under Dean’s shirt and up Dean’s stomach. 

A fire ignites under Dean's skin. He leans in to kiss Cas, but Cas stops him with a palm to his chest. “It’s the way you’re so kind to everyone, the way you were willing to take on a child that wasn’t your own and wasn’t even related to you, just to make sure she got a good life, the way you brighten my day just by being in it.”

Dean’s hands stop in their journey across Cas’s chest, and he blushes fiercely, his face becoming uncomfortably hot. He hates when people say agonizingly sincere things like this to him. He never knows how to respond. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he settles on, after a painful minute.

Cas accepts the reply, trailing his fingers across Dean’s cheekbones before kissing him again, and all of Dean’s thoughts melt right out of his head.

Cas tugs his own shirt over his head, and Dean’s hands still, his breath taken away by all of Cas’s tattoos. Dean had seen the flowers mixed together on one arm, their colors complementing each other perfectly, seen the woodland scene with its haunting stag on the other, but Dean hadn’t expected the way Cas’s chest barely has any blank skin left. “Didn’t that hurt?”

Cas shrugs. “You get used to it after a while. Besides, there were lots of great artists where I worked, so that helps a little.”

Dean feels a surge of guilt, then. It’s his fault that Cas had to leave where he used to work behind, and every time he talks about it, Dean feels a stab of selfishness for his initial insistence that Claire be raised here, so it was more convenient for him. He had barely spared a thought for Cas at the time, but now he’s struck with sadness at everything he’s taken from Cas. “I’m sorry,” Dean blurts.

Cas frowns in confusion. “For what?”

Apologies have never come easily to Dean, and this one comes out about as smoothly as the tapeworm he pulled out of one of his patients in his residency. “You know. For… dragging you away from all your… stuff.”

Cas shrugs smoothly. “I’ve grown to like it here,” he says with a nip at Dean’s lip.

Dean smiles into the kiss, relieved for the way the apology lifted a weight off his chest, despite how pathetic of an attempt it was. “I’m glad. Mm. Ecstatic, really.” He runs his hand over Cas’s ribs, taking note of the strange symbols just under his breast bone.

“They’re Enochian,” Cas explains, looking where Dean’s fingers are lingering.

Dean drifts his hands over to another tattoo, this one a seal with an eagle holding arrows and a branch. Dean raises his eyebrows, not really having pegged Cas for that kind of guy, but Cas doesn’t comment. Dean looks at the red little biplane that’s inked on Cas’s pec and makes a face. “I hate flying.”

“I find it freeing.”

Dean can sense Cas getting antsy under so much scrutiny, so he takes the moment to pinch Cas’s nipple, trailing his pinky back and forth over the mole right next to it. “A little disappointed you don’t have nipple piercings, not gonna lie.”

“I let them close up,” Cas says, before pulling Dean into a kiss, open mouthed and sensual. Dean’s eyes bug out a little before he tugs Cas down to the bed, maneuvering them until Dean’s on top.

Cas slips his hands under Dean’s shirt and caresses his sides. Dean tries to wiggle away from the tender touch, but Cas flips them over and seems even more determined to map out every part of Dean’s body with his hands and mouth, making Dean squirm. Cas sits up and tugs Dean’s shirt off before unbuttoning Dean’s jeans and sliding them down until they’re just a lump at the end of the bed. He trails his hands back up Dean’s legs, and Dean tries not to shudder at the goosebumps Cas leaves in his wake. Cas’s hands stop just at Dean’s inner thighs, taking a moment to knead them and trail his fingertips up underneath Dean’s boxer briefs. Cas leans down over Dean and mouths at the bulge in his boxers.

Dean whimpers, trying not to thrust up at the source of the heat, and Cas takes pity on him and slides his boxers off. Dean shifts under Cas’s intense stare. “Maybe we could level the playing field a bit, huh?” Dean asks.

Cas looks down at himself. He gets up from the bed and removes his slacks. There’s a whine coming from the back of Dean’s throat, and Dean isn’t sure if it’s caused by the loss of heat or the sight of Cas’s rippling thighs. In contrast with his arms and chest, Cas’s legs are almost completely devoid of ink. There’s a sunflower that blooms up his calf, but that’s it. Dean makes a mental note to ask him about it later. 

Cas climbs back onto the bed, the mattress settling beneath him, and Dean holds out his arms. Cas comes to him, falling against Dean’s chest and looking up at him from underneath his eyelashes. Dean leans in to kiss him again when he jerks back, startled by Cas’s hand snaking between them and giving him a squeeze. Cas grins at him as he begins running his fingertips up and down the shaft teasingly. Dean cants his hips up, but Cas brings his other hand up to press back down on Dean’s pelvis. Dean swallows and thuds his head back against the pillows.

Cas wraps his whole hand around Dean’s cock, his thumb dipping into the slit to gather precum and slick it down the shaft. He keeps this up until Dean’s feeling dizzy and like he could come any second. “Fuck,” Dean hisses, trying his very best to not writhe around on the bed like an eel in heat. 

He’s not successful, judging by the smirk Cas gives him. Dean makes a face. “I was going to ask you to, ah, fuck me, but if all you’re gonna do is, shit, is laugh at me…” Dean gasps out.

Cas’s face straightens almost instantly, looking around the room until it settles on the nightstand. “Top drawer,” Dean says, and then Cas is rifling through the drawer until he finds the lube. 

He brings it back to the bed, wrinkling his nose, probably at the general sliminess of the bottle. That shit gets everywhere; Dean’s not going to apologize. “Hurry up,” he complains as Cas settles back on the bed and prods at Dean to turn over onto his stomach.

That wasn’t the smartest thing to say, because it feels like Cas does his best to drag the situation out as much as he possibly can. He slides one finger in and out for a frustrating amount of time, twisting it around and pressing on the sides of Dean’s hole until Dean whines at him to add another finger. There’s barely an additional stretch when Cas finally complies, scissoring and stretching Dean even more until he adds a third finger. Cas has been avoiding his prostate, but Cas rubs his fingers over it now, making Dean moan.

“Cas, man, just get the hell inside me already!”

Cas withdraws his fingers and gives Dean’s ass a slap. Dean buries his face in his comforter to muffle the noise he makes.

“Do you like that?” Cas asks smugly, and Dean just reaches a hand behind him to flip Cas off in response. Cas tuts, “That’s no way to get the things you want.”

Maddeningly, he gets up off the bed, and Dean turns around, ready to drag Cas down to take the spot where Dean had been laying so Dean can ride him, but Cas is opening a condom and sliding it down his length.

Dean’s glad for the responsible sex, but he really needs Cas inside him, like, yesterday. Finally, Cas has it on, but he takes a moment to just stare at Dean. Dean shifts under his gaze. “Gonna paint me like one of your French girls?” Dean offers weakly.

“What?” Cas asks, furrowing his brow.

Dean rolls his eyes in exasperation. “How the fuck have you not seen _Titantic_ , dude? I guess we know what we’re doing next date night.”

“Next date night?” Cas asks, looking inordinately pleased.

“I don’t let just anyone fuck me. Can you please get back to it now?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Cas says, kneeling on the bed between Dean’s legs.

Cas strokes Dean back to full hardness before stopping to grab some pillows from the head of the bed to prop Dean’s hips up with. Dean groans. Finally, _finally,_ Cas is lining himself up and pushing in. Dean squeezes his eyes shut and breathes heavily through his nose.

“Are you okay?” Cas asks worriedly.

“Fine,” Dean grunts. It always hurts a bit at first, that initial stretch and the overwhelming feeling of fullness, but it’s worth it to get to that sweet spot that melds pleasure and pain perfectly.

Cas bottoms out and stills, allowing Dean to adjust. “I’m good. _Move_ ,” Dean begs.

Cas arches an eyebrow. “What appalling manners,” he says, and Dean doesn’t know how Cas can be so unaffected when he’s currently balls deep in Dean’s ass.

Dean grits his teeth. “Move, please.”

“That’s better,” Cas grins, and suddenly, he’s slamming into Dean.

Dean cries out, the words he was trying to say getting lost somewhere in his throat and turning unintelligible. Cas brushes over his prostate again and again until Dean is gasping soundlessly and his body is short circuiting.

“Fuck, Dean, you feel so good,” Cas moans.

Dean reaches down to touch himself, but Cas swats his hand away. “Want to make you come like this,” he pants.

“Cas,” Dean mumbles, drawing his name out and laying back to rest his head on the bed. If Cas wants to do all the work, that’s more than fine with Dean.

Dean screws up his face every time Cas hits his prostate, shooting a new spark of pleasure through him. He’s so close, can barely think straight, so he’s impressed that Cas can still speak to him in coherent sentences. He thinks of the stamina Cas must have and is already looking forward to round two.

Cas leans over Dean to capture his mouth in a messy, open mouthed kiss, that's more a swapping of saliva than anything else, and Dean pants into his mouth. “I’m so close, fuck.”

“Come for me,” Cas says, in a voice that is somehow even deeper than what it normally is, and then he nails Dean’s prostate again and Dean sees white.

He comes back down, gasping, to find cooling semen all over his stomach. Cas thrusts into him one more time, before Cas shudders and fills the condom. Cas carefully pulls out and ties it off, throwing it so it lands with a plop in Dean’s trash can.

“What would you have done if that missed and went everywhere?” Dean grumbles.

“You wouldn’t have been averse to helping me clean it up, would you?” Cas asks with a wink, the cheeky bastard.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Go wash me off.”

Cas stays where he is, fixing Dean with a _look_.

Dean groans. “I’m not a kid you’re teaching manners to; go get a god damn wash cloth.”

Cas’s mouth quirks. “Manners only come out during sex, then?”

Dean blushes and throws a pillow at Cas to hide it. “Didn’t you get taught you have to clean up the messes you make?”

“I suppose I did,” he says, finally heading for the bathroom.

Cas comes back with a warm wash cloth that he wipes off Dean’s chest with before nudging Dean on to his side so he can wipe the lube away between his legs.

Dean hisses at the rough fabric. “Are you sore?” Cas asks.

“Little bit.”

“Hmm. So no round two in the morning?”

“I didn’t say that,” Dean says, “Have to make sure _your_ prostate is healthy, don’t I?” He looks over to where Cas has laid down beside him, his chest heaving and an impossibly tender feeling blossoming there, only to see his own feelings reflected back to him in Cas’s face. Cas lifts a hand up to drag along Dean’s cheekbone, and Dean closes his eyes. “It was pretty awesome, right?” he mumbles, and Cas laughs.

“Pretty awesome, indeed.”

“You’ve definitely improved since the last time.”

“I should hope, given the last time we were barely 18 and were constantly terrified someone was going to walk in on us.”

Dean snorts. “I’m surprised I could get it up. Never underestimate the power of teenage horniness, I guess. You didn’t disappear this time, so I’ll consider it a win.”

The smile on Cas’s face falters, and when it disappears, so does all the air in the room. “I’m sorry. Should we... talk about that?” Cas asks hesitantly. 

Dean shrugs. “It was years ago. Why bother? I’m over it.”

Cas makes a sad face at him, so Dean turns over to face the wall, feeling vulnerable and exposed all of a sudden.

Cas trails his fingers down Dean’s spine, and Dean tries not to shiver. Dean falls asleep to Cas humming a tune Dean can’t place.

When he wakes up, Cas is still there.


	3. Chapter 3

Things aren’t perfect, but they fall into a rhythm that consumes the next four months, with Gabriel babysitting on occasion and Dean and Cas staying together more and more nights of the week. Cas still has nightmares he refuses to talk to Dean about; the only thing that he’ll say is that they’re better when Dean’s there.

They’ve even managed to tone it back with their arguing. “Now you can just fuck each other instead of shouting,” Gabriel likes to say, and Dean admits that it’s probably true. Most of their arguments seem to be a precursor to sex, and with both of them being so stubborn, there’s certainly no shortage of passion. Dean’s never had more angry sex than he has with Cas. 

Cas makes him feel like they’re back in high school again, ducking in and out of closets and trying to squeeze in a quickie whenever they can, which are depressingly spread out because of Claire. “It’s going to be even worse when she’s older,” Dean warns, and Cas just looks up at him with an adoring smile.

Dean gets it. He likes to think of Claire growing up, of him and Cas getting older together. He traces his thumb around Cas’s temple, humming thoughtfully at the gray that’s beginning to sprout there. “That’s from all the grief you cause me,” Cas says, slapping Dean’s hand away.

“You know I love it,” Dean says, leaning in and leaving a kiss on Cas’s temple.

Dean’s not sure how he managed to get this lucky, with this man that he didn’t think he was even going to be able to stand. Dean’s heart swells with everything he didn’t know he was missing. Claire starts crying from her nursery, and Dean’s in such a good mood that even Claire’s sobs won’t bring him down. “I’ll get her,” Dean says, pecking Cas on the lips as Cheeto winds around their legs.

Dean pads down the hallway and turns into his second bedroom that’s become Claire’s room now that Dean’s anxiety has lessened enough to let Claire sleep out of his sight. He picks Claire up from her crib and cradles her against his chest, smoothing his hand down her back as she continues to wail. He checks her diaper, but it’s dry. He thinks back to the last time she was fed and decides that’s probably the issue. He adjusts his hold on Claire and carries her to the kitchen. He sets her in her high chair and walks to the cupboard to find something for her. “In the mood for anything in particular?” Dean asks her, pondering the choices.

Predictably, she doesn’t respond beyond her continued cries.

“Hmm, okay, how about cereal?”

Dean thinks her sobs get louder, so he decides on some noodles. “Hey, Cas, can you come warm up some formula for her?”

Cas is there before Dean turns around from the cupboard with the box of noodles. He puts a pot of water on the stove while Cas mixes together the formula. When Dean finally steps back to let the noodles cook, he sees Cas’s worried look. “She’s just hungry,” Dean dismisses.

“She never cries this loud normally.”

“She’s a baby, Cas. Babies cry. Stop worrying so much.” Dean smiles, but it falls flat, if the look on Cas’s face is any indicator. 

Cas turns back to the formula, squirting some on the inside of his wrist to make sure it’s not too hot while Dean stirs the noodles idly. Cas takes the bottle over to Claire and puts it into her hand, but she doesn’t wrap her fingers around it. She’s only just started trying to feed herself, so Cas puts the bottle to her mouth, but she turns her head away. Her whole face is turning red from her bawling, and Cas looks over to Dean. “She won’t eat.”

“Maybe she just doesn’t want the formula. Let’s see if she eats the noodles.”

“Fine.” Cas sits at the table and crosses his arms while they wait for the noodles to finish cooking. Dean can practically feel the tension in the room, making it hot and stuffy in a way Dean can’t entirely blame on the boiling water. 

At one point, Cas gets up to bring Claire her favorite stuffed toy, a Hermione doll Charlie gave her, but it doesn’t do anything to soothe her. Cas picks her up and paces the floor with her, rubbing his hand up and down her back and cooing. Dean watches on with a pinched expression. He’s starting to get a headache.

Finally, the timer dings, and Dean drains the noodles and adds in some butter before putting them in a dish. Cas sets Claire back down in her high chair and settles the tray across her lap. Dean sits next to her and cuts up the noodles before spearing a few on the fork and blowing on it. He holds the fork to Claire’s mouth, but she doesn’t open up. “Here comes the choo choo,” Dean says halfheartedly, making a show of opening his own mouth.

Dean keeps trying to feed her for a few minutes, but she just continues crying. “You’d think she’d be cried out by now,” Dean says, attempting to stay cheerful. 

Cas bites his lip. “I think we should go to the doctor.”

“What? It’s just some tears.”

“And she’s obviously crying because she’s upset! What if something’s seriously wrong?”

“Look, Cas, I see parents coming in who are overreacting all the time. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“It’s not your decision! You’re not even related to her! You think just because you’re a doctor you know everything, and I don’t know shit, but I know that this isn’t right!”

“Cas, baby,” Dean says, ignoring the way Cas’s words sting and reaching for Cas’s arm, but Cas jerks away. “I’m sure she’s just teething. That was the problem when she wouldn’t stop crying like this before.”

Dean goes to the freezer to pull out a teething ring and hands it to Claire. She throws it on the ground.

“Something’s wrong,” Cas insists, getting up to pull his jacket on.

“Cas, I think I would know if something’s the matter,” Dean says placatingly, raising his voice to be heard over Claire’s bawling that’s increased in volume after Cas’s shouts. 

“Fuck you, Dean! You always do this! You think you know best, that I’m such a terrible dad!” Cas explodes, and Dean takes a step back. Cas continues, not giving Dean a chance to interject. “If you think I’m such a horrible dad, well, I don’t need that in my life. Maybe Claire and I would be better off in California, where people won’t think I’m overreacting every time I try and make a decision!”

Dean knows he should stop, make Cas sit down and talk about this before they both do something they regret, but his temper gets the better of him. “Just run away from this, then. It’s not like that’s not what you do for every little thing!”

Cas just stares at him for a moment, his face flickering through emotions so quickly Dean can’t pinpoint them until it settles on a blank, drawn stare. “Fine.”

“Fine!” Dean yells back, and in what seems like slow motion, Cas picks Claire up from her high chair and stalks down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him, leaving a hollow thunk to reverberate through Dean’s apartment.

Dean stays frozen in his seat, breathing heavily as he tries to get his heart rate back down. The door slamming shut left a ringing in his ears. He’s not sure what just happened, but he thinks his whole life just walked out the door, and he doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to get it back.

-

Dean floats around in a mopey daze the next day. He’s a ghost haunting the halls, like in one of his favorite Dr. Sexy episodes. If he’s lucky Dr. Piccolo will see his specter any minute now and shove him into a coat closet.

He checks his phone constantly, but Cas hasn’t texted him, not that Dean’s tried to reach out, either. When Cas realizes Claire really was just teething, he’ll text Dean, right? Cas probably just went back to Gabriel’s, not wanting to go to the ER that late at night, and him and Claire are both sound asleep right now.

His phone dings, and he rustles in his pocket for it, but when he pulls it out, it’s just Charlie.

<< wanna get lunch?

Dean frowns. Charlie will be like a dog with a bone if she gets wind of his and Cas’s argument. Dean just doesn’t have the energy for that today.

>> sorry, stomach ache. raincheck?

Charlie doesn’t reply, and Dean puts it out of his mind as he works through his patients. One of them has a nasty infection, and the sight of pus seeping out of their leg is enough for Dean to distract himself as he takes some samples. “We’ll have to do some microscopy to see what antibiotics we need to prescribe you. The pharmacy will call you tomorrow with your prescription.”

“So you’re not going to have to amputate it?” the man asks, and Dean chuckles until he looks up and sees the serious expression on his face.

“Uh, no, I think you’ll be fine. If it doesn’t clear up by the time you’re done with your antibiotics, stop by and see me again.”

“Thanks, doc!” the man says and gets up to leave.

Dean moves to follow him, but as Dean gets to the doorway, he sees Charlie waiting for him in the hall. Fuck.

“Hey, Dean. Your stomach still upset?”

“Um, yeah. Look, Charlie, I’m not really up for this today.”

“You’re telling me. You look like shit. What’s wrong?” Charlie asks, pressing her lips together.

“I already told you. Stomach ache. Must have eaten something bad last night.”

“Bullshit. You have an iron gut. Telling me you were taking a spa day would have been more convincing.”

Dean grimaces. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is something wrong with Claire?”

Dean looks around the hallway, noticing the people stopping to stare at them. “Let’s go get lunch, then. Come on.”

Charlie follows him down the hall and out to his car. She slides into the passenger seat, and Dean takes a deep breath before he opens the driver’s door. He gets behind the wheel and resolutely doesn’t look over.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asks again.

Dean shifts into reverse and pulls out of his parking spot. His mouth is dry, and he searches for the words to say. “Cas took Claire.”

Charlie shifts in her seat. “What do you mean?”

“He’s gone. He’s going back to California,” Dean says, willing his voice not to break.

“Oh, Dean,” Charlie says softly.

Dean manages to scowl. “Don’t _oh, Dean_ me.”

“Fine. What did you do?”

“Why do you think _I_ did something?” Dean grips the wheel a little tighter.

“Gee, Dean, I don’t know. It must be your agreeable personality and level headed demeanor.”

“I changed my mind. Go back to being nice.”

“Fine. What did Cas do, then?”

Dean opens his mouth, then shuts it again. “He thought Claire was sick. But she’s just teething! Her teeth have been coming in for months now. We’ve both seen it before.”

“And what did she do that made you think she wasn’t sick?”

“She’s teething! Of course she would cry and wouldn’t eat if her whole mouth hurts!”

“And so a minor disagreement blew so out of proportion that Cas is going back to California how?”

Dean grits his teeth. “He wanted to take her to the doctor. I told him I’m a doctor, and she was fine.”

“And you see so many babies on a daily basis, huh?”

“Damn it, Charlie! Whose side are you on?”

Charlie looks back at him with a steely glint. “I’m on Claire’s side. I want her to grow up with two loving parents, and this sounds like a classic case of Winchester Self Sabotage.”

Dean splutters, but Charlie keeps going. “You had things so good, you just had to try to push Cas away to make sure he wouldn’t leave.”

“And then he did! Just like he leaves everyone!”

Charlie furrows her brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for starters, me. We were… together in high school, and then he just disappeared right after. And more importantly, Anna! He just walked out on his family!”

Charlie squints at him in confusion. “You weren’t together! I think I would have known.”

“Oh, sorry, yes, you know if I was in a relationship much better than I do. My bad.”

“Dean, I think I would remember if my friend, who didn’t come out until college, was in a high school sausage fest.”

Dean takes one of his hands off the wheel to rub the back of his neck. “Less sausage fest, more… sausage snack. It wasn’t exactly something we advertised.”

“You were fuck buddies?” Charlie asks incredulously. 

“Don’t make it sound so crude, geez.”

“Okay, so where did things go sour? Was he upset you wouldn’t come out?”

“We never really talked about that. I was thinking about it, after graduation, but then he disappeared, and I didn’t hear from him again until Anna’s funeral.”

“So you’re mad that he went to boot camp?”

Dean looks at her for so long Charlie has to tell him there’s a stop sign coming up. “What are you talking about? Cas never went to boot camp.”

Now it’s Charlie’s turn to look at him in disbelief. “Uh, yeah, he did. He was in the air force, for like, years. How did he never tell you? Is all you guys do fuck? Because maybe I shouldn’t be supporting this unhealthy relationship.”

“No, we don’t just fuck!” Dean snaps. But he can admit maybe they need to work on their communication skills.

“Well, I don’t know why he wouldn’t have told you, or how the hell you managed to avoid the gossip mill on that one, but I do know he joined so he would be able to support Anna and his mom! He did the exact opposite of ‘abandoning his family’ or whatever you’re going on about.”

“Why did Anna never tell him about Claire?” Dean presses.

Charlie shrugs. “She had you, and she didn’t want to bother Cas. Anna said that Cas working at the tattoo shop was the first time she had ever really seen him happy, you know? He was finally doing what he wanted to do. She didn’t want him to feel obligated to move here and help her.”

They sit in silence for a minute, Dean digesting this new information and trying to make sure Baby doesn’t go off the road, before Charlie asks, “For real, how did you not know any of this? Do you not actually talk to anyone? What do your social interactions even look like?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, and it’s like pulling teeth. When are you going to realize talking about how you feel won’t infect you with cooties?”

Dean grunts in response.

“Well, sooner rather than later, hopefully, if you still want a shot with Cas.”

Dean doesn’t say so to Charlie, but he thinks he already took the shot, and it was an air ball.

-

On the way back from their lunch, which is filled with way too many pitying looks from Charlie for Dean to be comfortable, every song on the radio mocks him. First, it’s “Ain’t no Sunshine”, then it’s “Angel”, until Dean jams in the first cassette he can find, only for “Babe I’m Gonna Leave You” to blare out. Dean turns the volume all the way down in irritation while Charlie muffles a laugh.

“Shut up,” Dean grouses, even as his mind continues to whirl with all the information he just learned.

Charlie sobers. “I know this is hard for you…”

“Oh, don’t even start. I’m fine.”

They remain silent for the rest of the drive. Dean idles in front of the hospital and lets Charlie out. “Will you tell them I’m sick? Say I got food poisoning or something.”

Charlie sighs. “I’ll do it, but only if you call Cas.”

“Charlie…”

“Are you going to or not? Because if you’re not, you can damn well finish your day of work.”

Dean glares at her, but Charlie doesn’t waver. “Fine.”

Charlie softens. “Thank you. Call me after, okay?”

Dean waves her off and watches her walk back to work. He sits back and takes his hands off the wheel, just staring at them for a minute. His hands itch to reach for his phone, but he shifts Baby into first gear and heads towards his apartment instead. He keeps the radio on silent.

-

When he opens his apartment door, he’s struck by how empty it is. Which is stupid, because Cas and Claire haven’t spent that much time here. Claire’s only been with him for five months, and it’s been even less time than that since Cas became a regular fixture at his dinner table. Five months is barely any time at all relative to the rest of Dean’s life, so he’s not sure why the return of the silence that he used to live with is making him feel like he needs to crawl out of his skin. Cheeto wasn't even waiting for Dean by the door, like normal. Even he must be able to sense that something is off. 

The worst part of all is that this would normally be the part where he calls Anna, and she would come over and they’d eat a tub of ice cream while they watched _The Princess Bride,_ but for obvious reasons, that’s not in the cards right now. 

Dean tugs his phone out of his pocket and swallows hard, turning the screen on. There’s a message from Sam, but Dean ignores it for now. He needs to do this before he loses his nerve. He opens up the phone app and goes to his favorites, where Cas’s name still sits. His thumb hovers over Cas’s icon before he taps it. He holds it up to his ear, and it starts to ring.

Dean’s heart feels like it’s going to burst out of his ribcage any second now, but he stays resolute. It rings for a third time, then a fourth, before it cuts to voice mail. Dean hangs up. “Fuck,” he breathes.

He goes into his room and blinks, blinded by the light streaming in. He yanks the curtains shut and collapses on his bed, trying not to cry. He hasn’t cried since Anna died, and he’s not going to break down now. Dean’s lip begins to wobble, and he bites on it, willing himself not to fall over that ledge because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to scrape himself off from the bottom.

His phone rings, and he lunges for it. He almost drops it in his haste to answer it, swearing when he sees it’s Charlie. He sends the call to voice mail and sends her a text with shaky fingers.

>> he didn’t answer. just give me some time, okay?

His phone receives a response almost immediately.

<< okay ):

-

Dean can’t turn his mind off for the next week. He jerks awake in the middle of the night because his body has become accustomed to checking on Claire, but he slumps back against his pillows when he realizes she’s not there. Cas had stayed over more nights than not, and Dean’s body curls against itself, searching for the warmth that Cas used to provide. Cas always ran hot, and Dean used to get a little annoyed when he’d wake up in the middle of the night sweating because Cas was plastered to his side, but he’d give anything to get it back now.

That thought leads him to stumble to his closet and pull on a shirt, squinting as he flicks his light on. He glances at his clock. 3:32 AM. Sam’s always telling him he should get up earlier, anyway. He makes his way to the bathroom to piss and splash water over his face. He’s already awake from his racing heart that thinking about Cas gave him, so he just needs to look a little less like a corpse when he looks in the mirror. He’s not sure that the water helps much; there’s still dark circles under his eyes, his hair is greasy, and he thinks he might be getting a stress pimple which is all sorts of wrong at 35, but there’s nothing he can do it about now. He walks down his hall, out the door, and slides behind Baby’s wheel.

He turns the key in the ignition, bringing her roaring to life. He sends a silent apology to his neighbors. Baby isn’t exactly the quietest car on the block, and he would almost certainly be irate if some jackass disrupted his sleep in the middle of the night with their car, but he takes off down the road, hopefully before his neighbors had a chance to peek out the window and report him to the landlord.

-

He pulls up in front of Gabriel’s house twenty minutes later. He debates sitting in his car until a more reasonable time, but he figures with all the teasing Gabriel’s doled out to him and Cas, the very least he deserves is to be woken up in the middle of the night. Dean walks up the drive and pounds on the door. He’s just getting ready to knock again, his fist poised mid air, when Gabriel swings the door open, fully dressed and scowling. “What?”

Dean… honestly hadn’t thought Gabriel would open the door. “Uh.”

Gabriel glares at him. “Come in, then. I was just getting ready to have my coffee.”

“Dude, why the hell are you up so early?” Dean asks once he’s found his voice.

“I own a bakery, Dean-o. Kind of comes with the territory.”

Dean shudders. “And I thought I had to get up early. That sucks.”

“Tell me about it. Actually, tell me the reason you actually came over here.” Gabriel drums his fingers on the table, a careful look of disinterest on his face as he sips his coffee. “You want some?” he offers.

“Um. Sure. Look, have you heard from Cas recently?”

Gabriel gets up from his seat to pour another mug of coffee. “Sure I have. Why do you want to know?”

Dean frowns. “Gabriel, c’mon, don’t be like that.”

“You completely busted open the heart of my best friend! Why wouldn’t I be like this?”

“I didn’t mean to! And I’m trying to fix it!”

“You didn’t see him when he came tearing through here, getting all of his and Claire’s stuff. I don’t know if it should be fixed.”

“Gabriel, please. Don’t you think he should at least get to decide that for himself? I tried to call him, and he didn’t answer.”

“Well, it sounds like there’s your answer, then.”

Dean stands up. “Gabriel, please. I am begging you to help me.”

Gabriel sighs. “Fine.”

In the end, he helps Dean find a plane ticket to California, drives him to the airport, and promises not to let Cheeto starve. “Don’t fuck this up again,” are Gabriel’s parting words.

“I won’t,” Dean says confidently.

-

His confidence disappears somewhere around the first three seconds of taxiing for takeoff. He grips the arm rests so hard his knuckles turn white. The woman beside him smiles in sympathy. “First time flyer?”

Dean grunts and squeezes his eyes shut, and the woman doesn’t try to talk to him anymore. Dean’s too busy focusing on his breathing and trying not to have a panic attack to mourn the loss. The flight attendant was nice to him, and Dean doesn’t want him to have to deal with Dean’s bullshit. He can hear his dad in the back of his head telling him to man up, but unsurprisingly, it isn’t helpful. Dean fumbles through his bag to find his iPod, slipping the headphones over his ears and finding his most upbeat playlist.

His grip on the arm rest lessens incrementally as he hums to “Shake It Off,” trying to ignore the fact that he’s in a flying metal death trap.

By the time the plane’s touched down, Dean’s worked through what seems like Taylor Swift’s entire discography and has switched to the Spice Girls. As he stands up to deplane, he gives the woman he was sitting next to a grateful smile for putting up with what he’s sure was some pretty fucking annoying humming. “You made it,” she says, grinning back.

“Thank god for that. Now on to the hard part.”

As Dean shuffles off the plane, he starts planning his next move. Gabriel had also begrudgingly provided the address where Cas used to work, so Dean figures that’s where he should start. He doubts Cas will be there, but hopefully someone there will be able to point Dean in the right direction.

Dean takes an Uber there, reluctantly getting into an inferior hunk of plastic and whispering an apology to Baby. The Uber driver is insanely cheerful, and Dean can’t find it in him to bring the guy’s attitude down, so Dean makes conversation with him until he’s finally outside of the tattoo shop. At the sight, Dean’s pulse picks up again, and he thanks his driver. At least all the chattering kept his mind off of the terrifying thing he’s about to do. What if he can’t figure out where Cas lives? What if Cas isn’t even here? What if Cas takes one look at him and tells him to get lost? Dean gulps.

That one would hurt the most, that’s for sure.

Dean pushes the shop door open. Immediately, a woman looks him up and down in a way that makes Dean sure she’s undressing him with her eyes. “My, what a pretty canvas you are. What can I do for you today, handsome?”

Dean swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Um. I’m looking for Cas. Castiel?”

The woman’s eyes widen in surprise, then harden. “And who would you be?”

“I’m Dean.”

The woman sneers. “That’s what I was afraid of. Pick a tattoo or get your ass out of here.”

Dean does his best to try and not look like a deer in the headlights. “Uh…”

As he’s looking desperately at the walls for some inspiration, because he can’t just leave here without getting any information about Cas, a man bursts in from the main room. “Who’s this delicious specimen, Meg?”

“Do you guys make it a habit to sexually harass all your clients?”

The man puts an offended hand over his chest. “Well, if you don’t want any compliments,” he grumbles.

“This is Dean,” Meg says.

“And what are you looking for today, Dean? Because if it’s rebound sex, I believe I have a friend that fits the bill. He’d even gasp out the right name.”

Meg turns to the man with a grin. “Deanie here came in asking about Cas, Balthazar.”

Dean makes a face at the name, and Balthazar turns to Dean in shock. “You’re Cassie’s Dean?”

“Um. Yes?”

Balthazar looks back to Meg, and they have a silent exchange. Meg scowls. “He broke Cas’s heart. And you want to let him do it again?”

Balthazar gestures for Dean to follow him, so he does. He doesn’t know that he has much of a choice. He trails Balthazar out the door and to his car. There are fast food wrappers littered all over the seats, and when Balthazar starts the car, Dean can hear a clunking noise. “Might want to get that looked at,” Dean suggests.

Balthazar looks over at him. “Are you good with your hands?”

Dean shrugs. “A lifetime ago. Not my expertise, now.”

“Pity. I have it on good authority Cassie gets a little hot and bothered when you throw sweat and grease into the mix.”

“And you could have gotten a fixed car out of it, right?”

Balthazar smirks. “You got me.”

Dean’s mind whirls as Balthazar continues to drive in silence. “How is he?” he finally asks.

“Who?” Balthazar asks innocently.

Dean crosses his arms and glares.

“He’s shitty,” Balthazar says, “He’s the most miserable I’ve ever seen him. He won’t even let me watch the kid, so he can go out and get laid. I haven’t seen him this bad since he got back from Afghanistan with a shiny new PTSD diagnosis.” Balthazar smiles ruefully. “He wouldn’t admit he needed help, then, either.”

Dean stares over at Balthazar. He’s learning way too many things about Cas. “PTSD?”

Balthazar shrugs. “Well, yes. I can’t say I’m surprised he didn’t tell you, but didn’t you notice anything? He has nightmares and he gets really twitchy around loud noises.” Balthazar shakes his head. “Oh, Cassie.”

They shudder to a stop outside of a rundown apartment. “Is this your place?” Dean asks.

“No, Cas never terminated his lease.”

Dean looks over, his mouth gaping. California ain’t cheap. “He’s been paying his rent this whole time?”

Balthazar shrugs. “When he left, he told me he’d be back in a week. Then he called me and said soon. And then he stopped talking about coming back at all, until one day he shows up out of the blue looking absolutely terrible. That baby was crying, and he looked exhausted, but he didn’t want to leave her with us. Finally, we made him lay down on the couch in the back and he fell asleep. He’s been pretty close lipped since he got back.”

Dean cringes at the thought of Cas suffering and opens the creaky car door, a new determination coming over him. He has to make this right.

He walks up to the door and raises his hand to knock. His hand is shaking, and he wonders if he should have brought flowers or something. _Fuck, this was a terrible idea,_ Dean thinks, but the door swings open, and then Cas is standing there wearing gym shorts and a shirt that’s practically falling off his shoulders and showing his collar bone. “What do you want?” Cas snaps after ten seconds of Dean just staring.

Dean really needs to start planning for the possibility of people opening the door for him.

“Uh, I just wanted to apologize.”

“Maybe I don’t want it.” Cas turns to go back inside, but he doesn’t slam the door in Dean’s face, so Dean takes that as an invitation to follow him inside.

He looks around, surprised by all the artwork that decorates the walls. “Did you draw all these?”

“Yes. I can’t believe you were able to take all this time off your very important job to drive halfway across the country.” Cas says shortly.

“I flew. Why didn’t you tell me you were in the military?” Dean lobs back. 

“You saw my tattoo! What did you think it meant?”

Dean scowls. “Maybe you’re just really patriotic. I don’t fucking know.”

“Well, it was never relevant.”

“Never relevant? Cas, I asked you about your nightmares, and you said they were nothing! Balthazar said you have PTSD!”

Cas bristles. “I have it handled! I can take care of myself, and Claire!”

Dean deflates. “I know. But, Cas, I want to take care of you.”

Cas’s face softens, and Dean looks to Claire sitting in her playpen. “Can I hold her?” Dean asks softly.

Cas nods jerkily. “You know, she had croup.”

“What?” Dean asks, stricken, as he moves to pick Claire up. He buries his face in her hair, sniffing her scent. Oddly, he’s missed it.

“I was going back to Gabriel’s house, convinced that I really was just overreacting, when she started gasping like she couldn’t breathe, and then she started coughing. I turned around and went to the hospital. We were there all night.”

“How didn’t I hear about this?”

Castiel shrugs. “We went out of town.”

“You could have called me,” Dean says, smoothing Claire’s stray hairs off her forehead.

Cas arches an eyebrow. “Could I?”

“Of course you could have. I care about her just as much as you do. I’ve missed her. I’ve missed you, too,” Dean admits as he adjusts Claire over his shoulder, starting to relax at her comfortable weight. “I missed you so much, sweetheart,” Dean says, and he’s not sure if he’s talking to Claire or Cas.

“Being right didn’t have that feeling of victory attached to it like I thought it would. When they told me I was right, that something really was wrong, I wanted to feel triumphant, but I just felt hollow.”

“Why’d you leave?” Dean ask suddenly. 

Cas frowns, gesturing to Claire. “You wouldn’t believe that she needed help.”

“No, I mean before. In high school. We’ve wasted so much time.”

Cas shrugs. “What was I supposed to do? Occasional hook ups didn’t mean you were ready to sign up to wait for me however long I was going to be gone. If I told you, it would have been weird. I didn’t want you to feel obligated. I figured it’d be better for both of us if I just left.”

“It wasn’t,” Dean declares fiercely, “I would have waited. I came out because of you, but you weren’t even around to help me celebrate. I had to rub it in my dad’s face with massively less attractive dudes, which was a real shame.” He sets Claire back down in her pen and opens his arms. “We’re better together, Cas.”

Cas swallows hard and looks at Dean for a long moment before he surges forward. “I think so, too,” Cas says, his words muffled by Dean’s shoulder.

Dean combs his fingers through Cas’s hair, which is now neon purple. “I love you,” Dean whispers, and Cas looks up at him with hopeful eyes. “I love the way you’re so good with Claire, the way you care so much about everyone, and how you have the weirdest fucking friends. I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. I’ll try not to be such a jackass. But—you have to start telling me things! I shouldn’t have to find out important stuff from Charlie or Balthazar!”

Cas frowns. “I just—hate bothering people, I guess. I don’t want you to feel like you have to walk on eggshells around me.”

“It’s okay to ask for help, sweetheart. That’s what I’m here for.”

Cas nods reluctantly. “I’ll work on it.”

His serious expression soon disappears as he asks, “Hey, guess what?”

“You love me, too?”

“Well, I guess that, too.” Cas grins mischievously as he brings Dean’s hand up to his chest, and Dean feels hard metal through his shirt. Cas pulls his shirt over his head, and Dean’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of the two barbells through Cas’s nipples.

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Dean sighs as he leans back in to nip at Cas’s lip.

Before he can, though, Claire takes that as her cue to start crying. “She has a new tooth coming in,” Cas says, crossing his arms in challenge.

“Okay,” Dean says with easy acceptance and goes to the freezer to pull out a teething ring that he hands to Claire. She starts gnawing on immediately. 

When he turns around, Cas is looking at him with a soft smile. “I can’t believe you got on a plane.”

Dean shrugs helplessly. “I fucked up, and I needed to fix it.”

Cas steps closer, trailing his fingers down Dean’s chest. 

“So, Balthazar told me he had offered to watch Claire for you…” Dean trails off. 

They stare at each other for a beat before Dean scoops up Claire and scrambles out the door to where Balthazar’s car is still idling. Balthazar raises his eyebrows expectantly.

“You up for babysitting?”

Cas pounces on Dean as soon as the door is shut. He licks a trail down Dean’s neck, and Dean’s head thumps back against the door. “Cas, fuck,” Dean groans, already hopelessly turned on by the return of his sex drive after a week of it making a complete disappearance.

Dean gets his hands under Cas’s shirt and trails them up Cas’s warm chest to his nipple piercings. Dean rolls them between his index fingers and thumbs, and Cas buries his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. “Were you feeling wild after you left or what?” Dean asks.

Cas snorts into Dean’s neck. “I needed a change.”

“Well, it’s a change I can get behind. I’m not so sure about the hair, though. Blue looked good on you,” Dean says before capturing Cas’s mouth. It’s the first time they’ve kissed since Cas left, and Dean savors it now.

He wants to savor it forever.


	4. 4 years later

Dean looks back at Claire and blows her a kiss. She blows it back, and Dean smiles at the spit she flings with it. They’ll have to work on that.

He looks over at Cas to see the crinkles around his eyes as he grins at their daughter. “I love you!” Cas calls. “Be good, and we’ll see you later, sweetheart!”

As they walk hand in hand away from the elementary building, Dean tries not to tear up. He is not the kind of parent that cries when he drops his kid off at the first day of kindergarten, damn it. Cas squeezes his hand, and Dean looks over to see Cas grinning at him. “It’s okay to cry, you know. You won’t be any less of a man to me.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Dean says, bumping his shoulder into Cas’s.

Cas raises their clutched hands to kiss Dean’s ring finger, where Dean’s first tattoo sits. Cas has the match on his left hand. “I’m your ass, though.”

Dean sniffles. “Damn right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Consider feeding your friendly neighborhood writer with a kudos and/or comment, and feel free to come hang with me on [tumblr!](https://contemplativepancakes.tumblr.com/)


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